Raw - Aurora Belle - Страница 17
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Whoa. Loaded question.
Suddenly emotional, I blink as my eyes mist, and I whisper, “You have no idea.”
His brow furrows deeper a moment before he nods. Holding out his hand, I take it happily as he says genuinely, “I’m glad we could help out. I’m also glad to know the person who took our donation is someone who’s clearly passionate about her job and will make sure it gets used the way it was intended to be used.”
I’m so grateful for people like this man right here. He genuinely cares. Most people who care like he does have been through something of their own – something hard – so they know the value of charitable organizations. It’s just my guess, but I’d say Farid has experienced some hard times, as I’m sure Twitch has.
I respond, “Thank you. Thank you so much. You have no idea what this will mean. For some, it’ll mean a warm bed to sleep in, or heat during winter, or even a decent meal. We can educate with this money. We can train with this money. We can make a difference with this money. Thank you, Farid. It was lovely to meet you.”
I’m pleasantly surprised when he covers our shaking hands with his free hand and says, “I hope you’ll call me Happy. Please, call me Happy.”
I have no idea what I’ve done to make this cool man warm up to me so quickly, but it’s kind of awesome. Smiling stupidly, I nod once and repeat, “Happy.”
Releasing my hand, he reaches into his back pocket and hands me a business card. It has no name on it, just a number. Happy leans closer to me and whispers, “If you ever get into trouble again like you did the other week and Twitch isn’t around, you call that number and someone will come out.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stand.
I’m suddenly speechless. Happy is the person Twitch called to get rid of my problem. I feel the color drain out of my face, and Happy notices. Squeezing my forearm gently, he assures me, “We’re not all bad. Twitch is…well…he’s complicated.” I want to shout ‘you got that right!’ when he adds, “He’s not bad. He just...” Happy’s dark eyes meet mine as he says sincerely, “…he doesn’t know any better.”
And then he’s gone.
Leaning back to sit on the edge of my desk, I run a hand through my hair and think about everything that just happened.
Wow. What a crazy-assed morning.
What the fuck was up with that visit from Twitch? And more importantly, why did I give in to him so quickly?
Simple. You wanted his dirty mouth on you. More accurately, you wanted his filthy mouth to do nasty things to your body.
Although I won’t deny my brain’s completely wrong observation, I most definitely won’t agree with it. Not now, not ever. Because Twitch is a weirdo who watches me. And for me to have intense feelings for a man who does that sort of thing…well…what would that say about me?
Allowing myself some quiet time to think does me no good. In fact, it makes me more and more angry at what transpired here not an hour ago.
Who does this man think he is? A freaking god? So what if he looks like a demi-god? He’s not the boss of me.
I have a mind to tell him just that.
And that’s exactly what I plan to do.
Sitting in my car next to the parking lot by Falcon Plastics, I look ahead into nothingness and bounce my leg rapidly in anxiousness.
I should’ve never come here.
A normal person would’ve gotten pissed, eaten an entire tub of ice cream when they arrived home from work, then gone to bed thinking of all the great comebacks that could’ve and should’ve been said at the time of the confrontation.
Steps one and three have already taken place, and I’m sure step two isn’t far behind either, but I’m sure a normal person would not have gone to the workplace of a potentially dangerous man to fight it out with him.
But me? I’m just special that way, I guess.
Chewing my gum almost as rapidly as my leg bounces, I almost shit my pants and shriek to high heaven when a loud knock comes from the outside of the car window.
Placing a hand on my heaving chest, eyes wide in fright, I turn to see familiar black eyes staring back at me. And those eyes...they’re smiling.
Opening my car door, Happy mutters an amused, “Boss is wondering when you’re gonna leave your car and get your ass inside.”
My cheeks flush pink. I snap back, “Maybe I wasn’t even here to see him.”
He grins, “You’ve been sitting in your car in an industrial area looking like an on-edge crack junkie wanting her next fix for about half hour. So either you’re here for drugs, or…”
He leaves his statement hanging, and right then, I hate him. Just a little. Feeling humiliated at being watched all this time, I roll my eyes, “Okay, so maybe I was wondering if what I was doing would be considered unprofessional.”
Happy’s face becomes serious as he states, “It is unprofessional.”
Unsure whether he’s serious or just very good at sarcasm, I swallow hard and open my mouth to defend my actions when he adds on yet another grin, “But Twitch started it.” The knot in my stomach loosens a little at his casual demeanour. Pulling the car door all the way out for me to exit, I take my handbag and watch in stunned disbelief as Happy reaches into my car, takes the keys out of the ignition, closes the door, and locks it.
Smiling, he extends an elbow to me, and after looking between him and my car for a solid minute, I take what is offered by placing my hand into the crook of his elbow. Happy leads me through the parking lot and into the office. I chance a look around. It looks like any other office. A neutral off-white colors the walls, as well as just about everything else in the office. Cubicles, desks, appliances, even the staff all seem to be keeping up with the neutral color theme. What I notice more than anything else, however, is the staff.
They are happy.
Smiles, laughter, and conversation swirl around us as Happy leads me towards to an elevator. Up to the second floor we go, and all the way down the long hall. As soon as we reach his office, I know it’s his. Of course, the pompous shadow of a man would make his things different to everything else in the building.
The door in front of me was designed to intimidate. And right now, it’s doing a pretty good job.
Thick, mahogany double doors hand-carved in a gothic theme brings shivers up my spine. Each door has an intricately carved weeping willow, which is blowing in the wind. Thin, leaved branches flow in all directions. Both willows are made to look the same, yet completely different in pattern and wind direction. It all looks so fluid. The person who made these doors is clearly talented. And I have no doubt that Twitch paid a huge amount for them.
Suddenly, I realize what I’m about to do is a big mistake. Turning to Happy, his eyes meet mine and his brow furrows. I whisper-hiss, “I’ve changed my mind. I’d like to leave now.”
Pulling at his elbow, he stands firm while watching me closely for a full ten seconds before he lifts his hand and raps his knuckles on the door.
Oh, what? I can’t believe he just did that!
Eyes wide, I look to him with a glare that would read have you lost your damn mind? His lazy stare says I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Closing my eyes tightly, I pray to a god I don’t believe in to give me strength, when I hear the most sexually arousing voice I have ever heard in my entire life call out, “Enter.”
My nipples tighten, so taut they actually hurt. I have this voice committed to memory. There are just some things in life that are worth remembering. This voice is one of those things.
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